“We shall soon see, sir, as we shall be alongside very shortly;” observed Hearty.
“Is master Oriel Porphyry on board?” was shouted from the Whittington, as the ships neared each other. Oriel caught up a speaking trumpet.
“Yes, Captain Barter, I am here;” he replied.
“I will come on board, sir, if you please, as soon as a boat is lowered;” said the captain of the Whittington.
“Have you any communication for me from my father?” inquired Oriel.
“I have, sir; and ’tis of great consequence,” replied the other.
Oriel Porphyry was now all anxiety and impatience to know the intelligence he was promised. He hurried to the quarter-deck to receive his visitor, and strode backwards and forwards with hasty steps till he made his appearance. Now he thought that the news must be bad, and in a moment after he imagined that it was good. One instant he anticipated the death of his father, and in the next, hoped that he had been raised by his fellow-citizens to the highest honours in the nation. And in this way his mind continued changing its impressions for the better and for the worse, till he had worked himself into a state of considerable excitement, when Captain Barter advanced towards him.
He was an elderly man, of gentlemanly appearance; neat in his dress, and polite in his deportment. His face was pale, and slightly marked with wrinkles; and his features were mild and pleasing. His hair was gray, and his body rather thin; but he was perfectly upright in his walk, and his step was firm and manly.
“I regret I have unpleasant intelligence to communicate to you, sir,” said Captain Barter, after they had exchanged the customary salutations.